A Day In The Life
by InBetweenLetters
Summary: An illustration of how days at Pivet Drive effected Harry's life as an adult, for better or worse.


_Chapter one: A song on the radio. Or, Help!_

On December the twentieth, Harry realises two important things.

_December the 20th, 1988_

_ (The kitchen)_

The spitting and crackling of the pan goes unnoticed by eight year old Harry, who distractedly flips the bacon strips, grinning lovingly at the half-broken cassette player. His prize, his very first (and only) cassette! he bares his milky teeth in an unmistakable smile, not forgetting to silently thank his old teacher who had given him this gift. She was young and kind, but didn't intend to stay for longer than six months, but more on her later. Finally, something of his that didn't belong to Dudley. (Well, the cassette player is technically Dudley's, but that doesn't count, he was only given it because Harry wanted it first.) The soft song playing (Yesterday, he thinks it's called) soothes all nerves Harry had about bringing it to the kitchen. If his plan goes right, they'd never know at all, nothing to worry about. (For now.)

A new song by The Beatles begins to play. Harry is now so caught up with the song, he fails to pay attention to the crisp bacon.

_'Help! I need somebody - Help! Not just anybody - help! You know I need someone - help!'_

Harry snaps his fingers and taps his feet along to the music, now completely beside himself with joy.

_'When I was younger, so much younger than today, I never needed anybody's help in any-'_

The door bangs open.

"WHAT -ARE- YOU DOING BOY?" Vernon roars. Harry looks up in shock, the cassette still playing in woeful ignorance of the sight in front of it.

* * *

**_Two minutes earlier:_**

_ (The dining room)_

"Mummy, I'm hungry. Where's my breakfast?" Dudley demands of his bony and horse-like mother.

"It'll be here in a moment, Dudders. You can even have extra, a big boy like you needs lots of protein to grow."

"Yes Petunia, where is that boy and the food? If he doesn't intend to pull his buggering weight then he can just leave. He's no good and quite frankly-" Vernon stops abruptly. He sniffs once, twice.  
"Does that smell like burning bacon?" He growls, his moustache beginning to twitch. And without hesitation (other than the struggle to waddle out the chair) makes his way to the kitchen.

_**Present moment**__:_

_ (The kitchen) _

"WHAT _ARE_ YOU DOING BOY?" Vernon roars.

Harry looks up in shock, the cassette still playing in woeful ignorance of the sight in front of it.

"I - I didn't mean to Uncle I'm sorr..."

He trails off at the look of his uncle's face. Help! Still playing softly in the corner is brought to attention. Harry's done for. His uncle would call him a thief - he's dead.

"So boy, interested in music, eh? Interested in stealing too?" Vernon whispers, walking slowly towards Harry.

* * *

_**loads and loads of hours later:**_

_ (The cupboard under the stairs)_

"I'll be surprised if I leave here by the time I'm thirty!" Harry whispers to the outline of the spider that's visible due to the light of the corridor outside.

"I just wish I could have taken my cassette though. I really liked it, The Beatles are wicked. You wouldn't know, I doubt spiders have ears."

"..."

"Well maybe you do, I should sing you the song, it's called Help!"

"When I was younger, so much younger than today..."

* * *

_**A little while later:**_

"You know Spidey, I wonder if it's normal for eight year old boys like me that live with their aunt and uncle to sleep in a cupboard. Or talk to spiders. I wish I had help, it's really boring.."

In the cupboard under the stairs, on December the 20th, 1988, in the cupboard under the stairs, Harry realises an important thing:

It wasn't normal for eight year old boys that lived with their aunt and uncle to live in a cupboard.

* * *

**_ December 20th, 2001_**

He jumps forward and grabs on to her waist, attempting to slow her down before she reaches the edge of the frozen pond.

"Harry no don't we're both going to fall, you're chea - OUCH!"

Laughter seeps out of Harry, as he and Ginny lie in the snow. Well, Harry lies while Ginny attempts to bruise him as quickly as possible.

"You prat! You're just asking for a wet snowball down your pants, don't tempt me Harry."  
She threatens, not aware that Harry has stopped laughing to look at her wet, flushed face. Her chapped pink lips. Her twinkling eyes. He strokes her hair, holding her close to him.

* * *

**_10 minutes earlier: _**

_ (The Burrow's kitchen)_

"Harry are you ever going to get bored listening to that Kassette?" Ginny moans at her boyfriend. Harry looks over at her, grinning that crooked grin of his, with his spectacles hanging haphazardly low on his nose.

"Well no, I still can't believe you got me this! I thought you forgot about the story I told you in sixth year, about my time in Pivet Drive." He says in a slightly abashed tone.

"How could I? You did nothing but hum that song the whole day."

"It is a catchy song, Gin."

"I can't argue that, because then I was humming the song as well."

"You're so impressionable, I have to be careful not to corrupt you." Harry sighs in mock dejection.

"Oi!" She prods him. "I'll show you corrupt. Let's race to the tree by the pond, winner gets a slave for a whole hour." She grins wickedly.

"Are you mad? It's snowing!"

"Yes it is Harry, you've made so much progress!" She says sarcastically. "So you backing out then? Such a shame.."

"Fine, you're on, Harpy. I could do with a slave, the Auror office has done wicked things to my back that only a massage could cure." Harry says, in a resigned tone.

"I could do with a scrubbing of my Quidditch gear. These delicate chaser hands do need to score goals, you know."

"And massage backs."

* * *

_**Three minutes later:**_

"Ginny that's cheating - you can't just blow a kiss at me, I almost slipped on ice!" Harry pants, his breath creating greyish smoke in the cold.

Ginny runs ahead, laughing at his comment but not acknowledging it other wise. She can feel him getting closer, and tries to put on a burst of speed when -

Present moment:

He jumps forward and grabs on to her waist, attempting to slow her down before she reaches the edge of the frozen pond.

"Harry no don't we're both going to fall, you're chea - OUCH!"

"You prat! You're just asking for a wet snowball down your pants, don't tempt me Harry."  
She threatens, not aware that Harry has stopped laughing to look at her wet, flushed face. Her chapped pink lips. Her twinkling eyes. He strokes her hair, holding her close to him.

"You're beautiful when you're mad, and soaked." Harry says. And although he can't feel it, his girlfriend's heart quickens at this.

"Well Mr Romantic, it would have been even more sensual if you didn't throw me into a heap of snow, yeah?" She smiles dryly, her hands playing with his dripping fringe.

"Technically you fell on top of me, and now my arse is num- no don't move, it's really comfy when you lie like that."

"When I lie like this?" She repeats.

"Well yeah, you're so warm. And you smell like The Burrow, and chocolate..."

Harry drifts off, staring at Ginny's shocked and yet pleased face. He watches her as she smiles slighy, tracing his face with her cold hands. In the cold snow and brutal winds, all he feels is warmth.

"Gin?" He asks, some while later. Minutes or several sunlit days could have passed, he doesn't know.

"Yes, Harry?"

He's quite again. Still staring up at her flushed face. He feels that warmth he had a taste of inside of him now. Just like the first time he drank butterbeer, rode a broomstick, looked over at the Weasleys and Hermione after the war. In a moment that is uncannily similar to their first kiss, his brain stops thinking. He opens his mouth.

"Will you marry me?"

* * *

In the garden of The Burrow, with Mrs Weasley watching happily from the window, Harry Potter realises another important thing on the 20th of December:

He's going to spend the rest of his life with the _Help!_ He and The Beatles wanted many, many years ago.

A/N- I won't bother to explain my idea as it's still confusing to me. I hope it becomes a multi-chap fanfiction but my confidence and reliability to write isn't that high. I'd love feedback, any kind, but I won't hold my breath. Thanks for reading if you got this far.

**IBL.**


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